


dream smp oneshots (but i cant write fluff)

by Toby_121



Category: DreamSMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), mcyt
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28833741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toby_121/pseuds/Toby_121
Summary: mainly angst one shotsthis is mostly just a place to put my ideas, i'll probably flesh them out as separate works and stuff :)
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Technoblade & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. overgrown garden

tw: death / gore

tommy traced the old, decrepit wood. His eyes trailed over the wildflowers, the lilys. A few bees flew by, a small hum filling the air. A sad smile crept across his face- it really was beautiful, as much pain as there was, it was beautiful. He could remember the memories, his laugh. The beginning, when he said he'd make a garden for the bees, a safe place for just the two of them. Tommy resisted the tear begging to fall down his cheek, wanting to keep it all in, bottle it all up. Like he had for the past month. It had been a month. His hair was ragged, the shine gone. His skin patchy, his eyes dull. You could tell he was a mess, that he had been holed up for weeks. A soft hand rubbed his shoulder, and tommy jumped, whipping his head around. He didn't want to be seen hurting, to be seen weak. Wilbur. No words had to be said. 

Tommy stiffened as he was pulled into a soft embrace, wrapping his arms around wilbur after a small pause and clutching his sweater, pulling it down slightly. He buried his head into the yellow polyester, sobs beginning to rack his body. muffled cries filled the air as tommy let all of it come out like a gushing waterfall, comforted by Wilbur's embrace, even if he was just a ghost. A shell of the old Wilbur, of his old friend. Wilbur rubbed tommy's back slowly, fighting back tears himself. This boy- this teenage boy, had to go through this, and not one person had tried to help him. "tommy," Wilbur mumbled after the cries and whittled away to sniffs and choked breaths. Tommy looked up at him, his eyes red and his cheeks puffy. It hurt to look at him in such a way. "He's still here," Wilbur smiled softly, looking up at a few of the bees perched on the different flowers. "He always will be."

",,w-why couldn't he be a ghost, l-like you?" Tommy sniffed after a moment, his voice raising slightly as he pushed Wilbur away, rubbing his eyes. "Why does it have to b-be like this? Why can't I see him anymore?" His voice continued to grow in volume, his eyes glued to the ground. "I- I loved him! I f-fucking loved him! Why'd he leave me?" He yelled, throwing his hand out into the air as the words spilled from his mouth. "He was my best friend, forever. He said he'd never leave me- h-he promised- w-we promised," Wilbur stepped closer to Tommy, raising a hand out towards Tommy. He flinched, stepping back. "Tommy," Wilbur mumbled, brows furrowing as he tried to get the young boy to calm down. Tommy's breathing was getting quicker, more shallow. His arms clung to each other, nails digging into his skin. 

Tommy had gone into his own world, cutting Wilbur out completely as his thoughts took over him, filled him up. Hatred, sadness, anger, guilt, betrayal. He felt it all. And it was overwhelming. He hadn't noticed the sharp pain in the chest, the light headedness, the blood being drawn from his arms. He was muttering inaudible words, the memories looping in his mind. The blood, the yelling, the cries. Watching as his best friend was brutally murdered as a consequence to his actions. his actions. He shouldn't have left logstedshire, he shouldn't have thought dream was bad- but- but he was bad, he killed him. Confusion and regret wracked his body, his thoughts shouting in his head, arguing. Screaming.

"Tommy." Tommy flinched, two hands firmly landing on his shoulders. He was met with hard, reassuring eyes. "Tubbo is dead. He's not gone," Wilbur growled- it almost felt like the old Wilbur was talking. Was he? Was it possible.. ? Or was it a fragment, something Wilbur had left behind in Ghostbur. Tommy managed to calm himself down, sniffling quietly.

"P-please leave me alone," He mumbled, feeling the cold wind brush his shoulders as Wilbur moved his hands away and straightened his back. 

"Gather your thoughts- I'll check on you soon, okay?" Wilbur smiled softly, leaving the overgrown garden and letting Tommy stay and watch as he disappeared into the distance. 

Tommy moved, sitting against one of the wooden walls and running his fingers through his hair. "Come back to me," He mumbled, shutting his eyes and letting himself drift off into a dream- a nightmare.

Tommy stood, confused. He was,, a ghost? He looked down at his hands, which were only partially visible, then around his environment. It was the garden- tubbo's garden. Neatly kept, with bees everywhere. He saw himself, leaning against the newly placed wood and laughing next to him. It hurt to see him, his smile. He walked up to the two, watching as he and tubbo chatted away, truly happy. As they linked pinky fingers and promised to always be with each other. And then, he was somewhere else. With the blink of an eye, he was in the pouring rain. Screams rang out, dream's angry shouts, philza's rage. He realized where he was, what was happening. He looked around at the mess, the broken buildings, and then his eyes landed on himself. Crouched on the ground, back hunched over a figure, clinging to them as his body shook uncontrollably. Blood had stained the grass, and as Tommy got closer, he could hear it. His words, the sobs. He could see him, his best friend. The look of acceptance glazed over his features. The sword plunged into his abdomen, the crimson liquid trailing down from his lips.

"T-take care of the garden, okay Tommy?" He watched as the life drained from tubbo's eyes, as the realization hit himself, the look of fear in his eyes. 

"t-tubbo? tubbo?" Tommy choked on his words, and he pulled the body closer to him, blood staining his cheek and hands as he let out a raspy scream. A scream full of pain and sadness. True sadness. The others stopped fighting, the only thing piercing the air being tommy's screams of agony, the screams continuing until his voice broke, refusing to let him continue. Tommy watched as he was dragged away from Tubbo's body, clawing at the people taking him away, yelling out curse words, repeating the same things, "I have to save him," "let me say goodbye again," "let me go" "he isnt dead."

"He isn't dead."

Tommy woke up with a gasp, sweat beading on his forehead. His body felt stiff, and he felt an arm wrap around him. A cold one that pulled him closer to the figure. He let his eyes adjust to the dark, slowly looking at who was next to him. he choked back a cry of anguish as he saw his best friends smiling face, pale and partially transparent with empty yet familiar eyes. 

"Hey, Tommy"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im too sad to let tubbo stay dead im sorry-


	2. after effects .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy has a nightmare after the events at logstedshire 
> 
> tw trauma / gore / disturbing nightmare / vivid (idk let me know ?? i blanked out on this one)

techno was aware how tommy had changed after his exile, but he didn't know why. The quick, fearful glances tommy would send as he walked around the house, as if at any moment techno would turn on him and do something to him. the way he would constantly repeat apologies and freeze if he made a mistake, refusing to believe that techno wasn't mad and wasn't going to hurt him.

as well as the fact that techno had found tommy buried in a tiny hole under his house. not to mention the smell of sickness that plagued the cave, the blood staining the cold concrete, the worn and old torches littered across the floor. the trembling boy huddled in the corner, sniffing quietly with ragged dirty clothes and a messily made sword clenched in his hands.

techno knew something had happened. and it made him mad.

the voices had gotten bearable after some point in techno's retirement, the lack of bloodshed and overall war dulling them into quiet laughs and whispers as they watched techno go about his daily tasks. but when he'd found tommy, he couldn't get the shrill cries to go away for days- luckily those were the days when tommy was asleep, recovering from the sickness and injuries. 

Techno paused, lowering his book and glancing at the roof above him. There'd been no sounds or movement for some time, and it cast a layer of uneasiness over techno. he could usually hear the boy sleeping upstairs, his ears picking up on most of the things around him. He was hesitant to go up and check though, knowing that tommy was a light sleeper and the chance of him sleeping peacefully for the first time in a while being too good to ignore. He lowered his book, not wanting to aggravate the voices with his worry, and thinking, if he was quiet enough, it would be fine. 

making sure each step was quiet, techno moved up the stairs, listening intently for any noise in the bedroom in front of him. Nothing. Dead silence. it only made the uneasiness worse, the thought of something happening while he was downstairs reading making the voices only grow louder. opening the door slightly, techno peaked into the room. tommy lay curled up in the bed, unusually still and trembling slightly. he looked so small, with the thin blanket wrapped around his thin frame, bandages adorning his body in every place imaginable. techno wondered how phil would react. sad? angry? happy to see his son again, even if he looked like he had gone to hell and back? 

he looked like a shell.

techno froze as tommy flinched, a whimper escaping his lips. was he dreaming? techno wondered how long he had been asleep for. 

wake him up SCAREDINNIT heLP him nightmare nightmare nightmare

the voices grew particularly louder, enough for techno to huff and actually make out each sentence and word being said. 

he could tell whatever tommy was having a nightmare about was getting worse, the blonde shaking more and more with each minute passing.

\--

bright, saturated colours.

that's what lmanberg looked like to tommy- no, logstedshire. He was at logstedshire. it scared him, uncomfortableness settling over him and refusing to leave as he looked down at the bright green grass pressed beneath his nearly broken shoes. 

"tommy."

a low voice made tommy jump, whipping around to see who had said it. Dream stood in bright coloured clothing, a cracked mask adorning his face. the smile carved into the mask bored into tommy, freezing him into place. he watched as dream reached up and slowly took the mask off, letting it fall to the ground and dissipate. Tommy's eyes widen, his very core being shaken as he looked at dream. the only normal features were the freckles splattered across his cheeks. his eyes were a whirl of colours as they spun, and his smile seemed to only widen as the seconds passed. black liquid dripped from dream's mouth and eyes, 

"you betrayed me" tommy's vision swirled as he fell backwards, hands grabbing his shoulders firmly as he let out a choked gasp, pouncing up from his bed and clutching as his chest. It took him a moment to fully realize where he was, looking around the room frantically with wide eyes. 

"mmy, you're safe" tommy's eyes landed on technoblade, who was sitting next to him with a worried gaze. it didn't do much to ease the fear in tommy though, instead making it worse. did he distract techno? dream never liked it when he had nightmares, never. 

"I-I'm sorry," tommy blurted out, it being the only thing he could think of saying. it felt like there was a lump in his throat. "i'm sorry if i woke you, im sorry," the words fell off his lips like a waterfall, hoping maybe, just maybe, techno would forgive him and go back downstairs instead of ridiculing him and hitting him.

"tommy, i'm not angry, calm down," techno mumbled, panic in his eyes. "i get nightmares too, yeah? nothing to be sorry about," he added, clearly just trying to get the boy to calm down. tommy's breathing was heavy, his thoughts engulfing him. 

"y-you don't need to l-lie, just get it a-away with already," he breathed, knowing techno was angry and just wanting it to be over with. at least dream never lied like that. he didn't lead tommy on. 

techno tilted his head slightly, "what do you think I'm gonna do, tommy?" tommy shot a glare at techno, he hated it when he said that. its what dream would say, whenever he would hit him. make him say what he would do. it left a sour taste in his mouth, a horrible feeling settling over him.

",,h-hit me," tommy mumbled after a moment in a quiet voice. techno wavered for a moment, eyes glinting with anger for a slight second before quickly going back to a caring gaze- luckily tommy didn't catch it. 

"tommy, i'm not going to hit you. I'm never going to hurt you," techno replied- something about his voice, it felt safe. reassuring. it didn't feel gentle, or pitiful, but something about it made tommy know techo wasn't lying. 

"stay" tommy blurted out without thinking, immediately regretting the word and beginning to spiral again. he was going to hurt him, he'd ruined it.

it was his fault.

tommy paused, watching as techno simply nodded and peeled the blanket back, awkwardly climbing in and pulling tommy into a gentle yet firm embrace. he relaxed into it, letting out a small breath of relief as he shut his eyes, the thoughts melting away. techno rested his chin on tommys head, a weird feeling dwelling in his stomach. he shrugged it off, focusing on keeping the younger teen feel safe and comforted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was writting at 3am while listening to a one hour loop of a slowed down undertale ost with reverb
> 
> we love to see it


	3. drinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tubbo spirals after seeing the remains of tommy's exile
> 
> tw / / drinking / mentions of suicide

"Surely not" the words fell from tubbo's lips, the lump in his throat settling. the block tower loomed over him, making him feel tiny. like an ant. What had happened to his friend? Tubbo began to shake, thoughts spiraling into constant repeating of words, sentences. Until it wasn't. Then, he was on the ground. 

waking up from passing out, tubbo has learned, is not the nicest experience. especially when outside in the rain.

the grass was coated in a thin layer of moisture, the sky a dark grey. Tubbo raised a slow hand to rub his eyes, trying to figure out what was going on as the realization dawned on him. He'd passed out at logstedshire. Or, what remained of it. His clothes were clogged with water, hanging off his frame loosely. The shadow of the tower continued to loom over him as he sat up, feeling almost numb. How long had he been here? 

he tried to focus on everything else. 

he didn't look at the tower, in fact, he actively avoided looking at it, in hopes that maybe the sour thought would go away and take the horrible taste on his tongue away. after awhile of sitting in the damp grass, tubbo dragged himself up, pulling himself to the nether and heading home.

that was when he came to acknowledge the full reality of the situation. Tommy had (assumedly) done the deed. All because tubbo had exiled him, left him to rot. it haunted tubbo, and he curled up tighter in his small bed, sobs racking his body. he wanted it to stop, the constant flow of pain, the thoughts, everything. tubbo looked up from his bed with blurry eyes, looking around the room. His gaze landed on a worn cabinet he barely touched. Moreso refused to touch. In it was a gift from schlatt- or, well, gifts. tubbo never really understood why he got them, but schlatt had just shook his head and said, "listen, kid. one day you'll thank me."

tubbo crawled across the floor, fumbling with the hatch and wiping off the layer of dust on his fingers before reaching into the cabinet and staring into the tinted curved glass bottle. tubbo would call it an impulse, something he did on a whim. he refused to admit how he could barely take his eyes off the bottle, the thought of being able to forget too good to let go to waste. After a moment of trying to take the cap off, tubbo took a sip of the bitter liquid, surprised by how easy it slid down his throat. yes, there was the taste, but.. it felt nice. tubbo slowly sipped the alcohol, the sips turning into gulps, the gulps turning into chugging the full bottle in one go. why was this stuff so bad again?

\--

finding tubbo wasted lying across the floor wasn't.. ideal. Quackity examined the situation, golden feathers adorning his back ruffling slightly. He'd come over to, one, ask tubbo about some info he needed, and, two, check up on him since he'd been missing for a while. 

multiple empty bottles were rolled across the table and floor, some empty, others slightly full. Had schlatt given this to tubbo? it hurt. seeing tubbo like this hurt, not just because he was a fucking seventeen year old, but because of how much in this moment he resembled schlatt. It reminded quackity of the days when he would find schlatt drunk, throwing slurred insults and waving his bottle around like a lunatic. Picking tubbo up off the floor, quackity questioned what had happened to make him do this. it had to be something bad, clearly. quackity lay tubbo down in his bed, cleaning up the bottles on the floor and making sure there were no more that tubbo could lay a finger on.

grabbing the nearest stool, quackity sat down next to the bed, finding himself playing with a small piece of wood that had chipped off the floorboards while waiting for tubbo to wake. 

\--

tubbo groaned, the throbbing pain in his skull unavoidable. 

"..ubbo? tubbo?" tubbo rubbed his eyes slowly, looking up at quackity groggily. how long had he been here? Quackity held a small cup of water, watching tubbo worriedly.

"..quackity?" tubbo mumbled, his voice hoarse and low. He sat up slowly, rubbing his forehead as he adjusted to the dim light in the room. the curtains were closed, sure, but it was still obvious the sun was in view of the window. Quackity held the glass of water out towards tubbo expectantly, "drink," he responded firmly, given a weird look from tubbo in return. Even then, tubbo still took the drink after a moment, taking his time to drink it all.

"what happened?" quackity asked after a moment, and the boy froze up. Everything seemed to crash down on him at once, tears forming in his eyes that he willed to go away.

"t-tommy," tubbo blurted, "h-he's gone," and with that, the boy broke down again, clinging to Quackity and crying into his chest while the older rubbed his back slowly. They stayed like that for what felt like hours as tubbo let out his emotions, telling quackity what he saw. 

"I-I killed him, quackity, I- I killed tommy" Tubbo cried, his voice raw. Quackity didn't know how to respond, making small 'hush' noises as he continued to rub tubbo's back.

"it wasn't your fault," quackity replied after a moment in an even, calming tone, curling his wings around the two in hopes of comforting tubbo more. And it seemed to work. Tubbo's cries turned to small sniffs and hiccups as he calmed down, seeming to gather himself and figure out his thoughts.

"why did I exile him?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only angst here boys, nothing good
> 
> bruh how have i posted a few hours ago and already gotten 200 views this is weirding me out  
> I didn't know how to finish and I think i might turn it into something more at some point (dont trust me on that) but take this *throws*


End file.
